An Easter Repost

*I wrote this a couple of years ago on my blog, but it still resonates with me every Easter. The internal struggle that I feel and wrestle with... to remember, to revere, to truly desire to embrace my Lords suffering for me and yet the impossibility to do so in a way that gives me peace. Thank you my precious Lord, yet again, for your sacrifice...*


Tears fall on the dark wood floor. My shoulders, they feel so heavy. The weight is unbearable, how I ache to put it down.

This burden of my sin. It cuts deep knowing that after all that He did for me, I still so easily fail Him. His death means freedom from eternal punishment, His resurrection means hope, new life and yet, I still weep.

I know that He is my everything, my all and all and I long to please Him.

Oh Father, how I long to please you.

I wander aimlessly around lost in my thoughts these last couple of days in the aftermath of the Easter weekend.

I reflect at how Jesus still seems to get brushed to the side no matter how much I vow to put Him front and center. I promise every year it will be different. I add new traditions, I am intentional, but in all its planned purpose, it still lacks.

Can we really ever be reverent enough, can we really ever dwell on His holiness, His sacrifice in a way that will satisfy our innermost desire to embrace His suffering and death to the point that somehow we will have given it justice.

Never.

I am human. I am selfish. I will always be at a loss.
Each day as I lay here at His feet, I again realize that it's daily.

Deny, Deny, Deny.

I will deny my flesh. I NEED to deny my flesh.

My humanness is a mess, always such a mess. He is perfect, blameless and He loves...Oh, how my Saviour loves.

I shield my eyes from the mess, the gory, brutal mess of my first love hanging there on that cross. His blood it drips and spills, pours out for me and I feel hot tears fresh on my face. I watch them drip on the floor and marvel at how broken I am yet again.

You bring me to my knees, your love for my wretched soul. I come knowing that I am not worthy, you alone are my ransom. Bought and paid for with the blood stained tree, the spikes encased in flesh, the bruised, battered body and the salty, tear stained face.

Its clear.
My pride, my selfishness, my laziness, my impatience, my anger, my lack of self control, it's all here.

I am led to the cross. In all its ugliness there is beauty too great to put into words. A beauty that takes my breath away.

He thinks I am worthy enough, he has seen something worth saving that I don't see.

I am humbled, my soul stirs deep and I count the cost.


I belong to you.


I belong to you.

I Wish...

I wish I spent more time smiling at my kids rather than correcting.


I wish I spent more time thanking my sweet tradesman for everything he does for me rather than complaining about what still isn't done.


I wish I would welcome unexpected guests into my home graciously and with enthusiasm rather than be so concerned about the state of my home or self.


I wish I spent less time sulking and focusing on how our family has been mistreated by the body of Christ and rather praised God for the sanctifying work He is doing in me and in His people knowing His timing and purposes are perfect.


I wish that I spent more time joyfully cleaning and caring for my many things rather than doing it with disdain and frustration.


All I know is grace.


I have been listening to this beautiful song called "All I have is Christ" by Sovereign Grace

Timely with Good Friday just around the corner. Here are the words.


I once was lost in darkest night
Yet thought I knew the way.
The sin that promised joy and life
Had led me to the grave.
I had no hope that You would own
A rebel to Your will.
And if You had not loved me first
I would refuse You still.

But as I ran my hell-bound race
Indifferent to the cost
You looked upon my helpless state
And led me to the cross.
And I beheld God’s love displayed
You suffered in my place
You bore the wrath reserved for me
Now all I know is grace.

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone
And live so all might see
The strength to follow Your commands
Could never come from me.
Oh Father, use my ransomed life
In any way You choose.
And let my song forever be
My only boast is You.

Funny how all week I have been singing this song and sang...

"Oh Father, use my wretched life in any way You choose."

Not until tonight did I realize when I looked up the words of the song for this post that not wretched, but ransomed was the actual word.

Thank you Father that the wretchedness in me you have ransomed.

The strength to follow your commands could never come from me. Whatever someone sees in my life is only because of you. My song will forever be, my only boast is you.

Yes, we are wretched...

but we are ransomed.

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